#Odesta fanfiction

[petruchio]

into the mystic (3/3) - 18k

After a broken Annie Cresta wins the 70th Hunger Games, Finnick is given six months in District Four to put her back together ahead of her Victory Tour.

now complete!

[rosaaeles]

I really want to hear some of your odesta hcs if you have any 🙈

omg of course! here are some :)

i feel like i mentioned this in the ficnick, but i headcannon that annie waits up for finnick in his house in the victor’s village on the days when he’s coming back from the capitol. sometimes she does things to keep herself occupied in the meantime like baking or reading or knitting, and sometimes finnick gets back so late that she falls asleep waiting. when this happens, he always carries her to bed, regardless of how tired he is. he’ll put whatever she’s baked on the cooling rack, or he’ll put a bookmark in her book to save the page, and then he’ll join her :’)

after her games, it takes annie years to feel comfortable with being in water again, but she misses the ocean often and finnick is always happy to go with her. they spend countless afternoons sitting on the shore shoulder to shoulder till she’s ready to go.

finnick likes to collect seashells for annie whenever they go. he knows annie likes them, but doesn’t feel comfortable enough with moving closer to the water which is where most of the shells wash up, so instead he brings them back to her. over time she builds quite a collection of seashells, seglass, and driftwood he’s brought back to her. sometimes she likes to braid the shells into her hair. 

annie wears finnick’s clothes often when he’s away at the capitol – especially his sweatshirts and jumpers – because she likes the feeling of being wrapped up in something warm and loose that reminds her of home. when finnick realises, he starts leaving her a few before every trip. by the time he gets back, they don’t smell like him anymore, and annie has to resort to tucking herself under whatever he’s wearing.

the first time finnick hears someone in four making fun of annie, they’re in the market in d4’s main port. he and annie are making their way past stalls leisurely when he hears it. it’s an unmistakably cruel remark, and it’s probably only said because people don’t seem to think annie can hear them when they make these comments. one glance at the girl tells finnick that she definitely has. she pretends not to hear, but finnick notices her posture droop ever so slightly. the boy fixes the perpetrators with a glare ready to put them in their place, but before he can say anything, annie tugs on his hand. “can we go, finn? i just want to go.” finnick wants to tell her that if anything, the people who made the remark should leave, but annie’s gaze is pleading. generally, people don’t make many comments about annie when he’s around too, but he imagines that it must be bad when he’s not.

finnick always does his best to stifle any sound he might make when he wakes up from nightmares, unwilling to wake annie up too. somehow, she always seems to notice anyway -- they’re both quite light sleepers so it doesn’t take much to wake her up. annie almost always seems to know what finnick needs, but she always asks before initiating any type of physical contact. usually, he’s okay with it; practically falling into her arms, but when he isn’t annie limits herself to linking her pinky with his and taking deep and slow breaths until his breathing matches her own.

[awhiskeyriver]

The Tutor: Chapter Nine

Summary: When Finnick Odair, star quarterback and golden child of the Panem Nightlock’s football team is seriously injured on the  field, his coach is willing to go the extra mile to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Enter Annie Cresta. From ‘The Bet’ universe. 

Rated: M

You can read it here!

[dancingonmoonbeams]

odesta week: free space wednesday

Summary: Finally free from the Capitol, Finnick thinks about his appearance. This is a scene from a longer fic I’ve had on the back burner for a while, so you may see it again once I finally finish that fic, but I love it and really wanted to share it.

Finnick’s hair was always a star of its own in the Capitol. For his first appearance in the Tribute Parade his prep team had put some kind of spray in it to make it stick up in artful waves, looking sun-kissed and windswept even though he felt as far from District Four as he could possibly get. They told him after that people were already making appointments with stylists to get hair like his, something that made him itch under his skin in a way he didn’t quite understand. 

They always kept it artfully messy, waves of bronze that fell in his eyes and made people’s heads turn. Later, when he found out what being a victor really meant, the people he met would touch it, dragging their fingers through it and leaving ice everywhere they touched. Sometimes they’d pull it, would move his head where they wanted it with a sharp grasp of the roots. Those were the moments when Finnick hated his hair the most.

People talked about it constantly. Entire television segments were devoted to how Finnick Odair’s hair would be styled, the commentators breathlessly reporting about this product or that brush they claimed his stylists used. He never knew how to respond to it, never understood why this part of him he’d never thought twice about could raise such a fervor in the Capitol. When District Thirteen had him doing propos, they tried to do the same thing–using their limited means to get his hair sticking up just right, to make him the picture of what the Capitol would expect to see from Finnick Odair. He hated it then too. Even knowing it was for the cause, that people would listen to him more if he looked the way they expected, he wished he could just let it go and not care about how he looked at all.

Now, he’s left the Capitol behind. He hasn’t seen a stylist in months and never plans to. When he and Annie got home he’d cleared all the products they’d made him keep from the shelves, tossing them in the garbage without a second thought. There are no more cameras on him, no need to make himself fit the Capitol’s expectations. 

He looks at himself in the mirror. His hair is a bit longer than they usually let it get, still shining bronze even without all the Capitol shampoos and products. It’s damp from the shower, curling up at the ends, and he twitches when it brushes against the back of his neck, a flash of phantom hands scratching at his skin crossing his mind before he forces them away. He tears his eyes from his reflection and rummages in the drawer for the scissors they keep there, feeling their cool weight in his palm as he takes a deep breath and stares down his reflection.

As he grasps a piece of hair between his fingers, willing himself to bring the scissors up to meet it, Annie appears behind him, her eyes wide as she meets his gaze in the mirror. Finnick feels himself relax at the sight of her, her presence enough to push the last memories of the Capitol aside. 

“I want to cut my hair.”

If Annie is surprised by his decisiveness, she doesn’t show it, her expression achingly tender as she steps closer behind him, one hand on her barely visible bump and the other coming to rest on his shoulder. “Do you want help?”

He nods, not trusting his voice to speak, and hands her the scissors. Her fingers brush his as she takes them and he feels himself settle under her touch. Annie’s hands have never been anything but loving, nothing like the greedy hands in the Capitol that would pull and scratch and take piece after piece of him until he was left with nothing. She gently nudges him to sit in front of her and runs her hands through his damp locks, setting the scissors down as she does. 

“How short do you want it?”

Finnick bites his lip, his eyes cast down at the chipped tile on the floor. “As short as you can get it.”

There’s a brief silence as Annie’s hands slip from his scalp to his shoulders and he feels her lips brush against the top of his head in a gentle kiss. “Okay,” she says softly, then reaches for the scissors. 

He closes his eyes at the first snip, breathing in slowly through his nostrils the way Mags taught him when he first came out of the arena and struggled to take a full breath. He feels Annie’s fingers halt, one hand coming down to his shoulder in a reassuring touch.

“You can keep going,” he tells her. She hesitates for a moment before she moves her hand back to his head. 

After a few snips, he opens his eyes, breathing slowly at the sight of bronze curls tumbling to the floor around him, splayed against the tile like seaweed washed up on shore. There’s something about it that makes him feel lighter, a weight lifting from his shoulders as Annie continues her careful movements. She murmurs instructions a few times, asking him to tilt his head to give her a better angle, but other than that the only sound is the metallic snip of the scissors, the whisper of hair falling to the floor.

Annie’s movements slow, the cuts further apart, then she stops and sets the scissors down on the countertop. “There,” she says quietly, her hands moving to brush a few stray pieces of hair off his shoulders and then resting there, her touch settling his racing heart. “Do you want to look?”

Finnick nods, blinking in surprise at the unfamiliar sensation of cool air moving across his scalp. He stands slowly and turns to face the mirror, unsure if he’ll recognize the face he sees looking back at him. 

When he finally looks, he’s surprised at how unremarkable his reflection is. His hair is mostly gone, the bronze waves scattered on the tile at his feet, his scalp more pale than he expected from years of not being exposed to the sun. And beneath it is his face, the puckered scars that travel up one side of his body, moving from his shoulder to his neck and across his cheek, angry red lines that he was told would fade with time. There are his freckles from his time in the sun, his same green eyes, the nose that’s just like his father’s. He’s still himself, just with shorter hair, lovingly clipped not by his prep team in the Capitol but by his wife in their home here in this new world.

He meets Annie’s gaze in the mirror. “That’s as short as I could go without clippers,” she says, wringing her hands. “We can borrow some if you want.”

Finnick turns and wraps his arms around her, letting out a slow breath as she returns the embrace. “I love you,” he breathes close to her ear, feeling her arms tighten around him in response. “Thank you.” 

Annie pulls back just enough to look at him, her hands coming up to his cheeks as she gazes at him with such love in her eyes that he feels like he might as well be gazing into the sun. She presses a gentle kiss to his lips and leans back in to rest her head on her chest, her arms slipping around his back with gentle weight.

[odestasocean]

odesta week day one: modern au

summary: singer and songwriter annie cresta hopes to enjoy some peace and quiet at her favorite spot on the beach to watch the sunset, but instead she ends up finding a camera whose owner appears to be nowhere in sight. until she spots him and discovers that he is not what she had expected.

Annie’s favorite time of the day is exactly 4:52 in the morning.

And her favorite activity at this hour is taking a stroll on the shoreline.

The summer air is just crisp enough that she’s able to wear one of her favorite knitted sweaters, but not cold enough that she needs to bring a jacket. The beach is just crowded enough that she doesn’t feel lonely, but not busy enough that she has to dodge kids running from every direction. 

The sun doesn’t rise for another hour or so, enticing her to find her usual sunrise-watching spot. It’s a twenty-three-minute walk from her apartment complex, yet it seems like no one knows of its existence apart from her. 

Annie’s only lived in her current apartment for six months. She moved out of her parent’s house three days after she graduated high school, and she hasn’t regretted it for a single second. She loved the small town of Auburn that she grew up in, but ever since she was little, she craved a life away from the mountains and toward the sea. The mountains were an endless cascade of enmeshment, enveloping her in their depths. No matter how far up she looked, she could never see the top of the mountains surrounding her. She felt trapped and alone which was a vast difference as to how she felt at the beach: limitless and complete. 

In her youth, she and her family had made frequent visits to the ocean-side town that was several hours away and those were her favorite memories growing up. She learned to associate the ocean with nothing but peace and belonging and happiness and early carefree mornings and picnics on the sand and late-night ice cream cones and laughter ringing in her ears. No other place could ever amount to it. 

So, in her later teenage years, she worked endlessly to save up enough money to afford rent for an apartment split between three roommates and herself. And that’s how she ended up in Carpinteria. It was a seven-hour drive from her hometown, but her road trip playlist combined with the ocean view fading into the sights of mountains always made it feel much shorter. She saw her family twice a year– once every other season– and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She adored her parents and her two older sisters, of course, but spending anything longer than a week with them at a time could only be equated to the backstory of any starving artist: judged for your passion, ridiculed for not pursuing an “actual job”, and constantly being worried about your family thinking you’re even less capable than they already believed to be true. 

See, Annie is an aspiring singer and songwriter. 

She has been determined to make this dream her reality since she was seven years old and has put in the work to do just that. Music has always been her safe place, just like the ocean. She knows that there is nothing she’d rather do with her life than create songs, but it’s not the most attainable dream to have. So, she works at a local cafe during the day and performs at a neighboring bar during the night. The money isn’t all that great, but she has ears that are willing to listen so it’s enough for now. She’s only nineteen (as of two weeks ago) after all, so she has plenty of time for her big break. And no matter what her parents and sisters say, she does not need a college education to get somewhere in life. 

4:52 AM is her favorite time of the day because that just so happens to also be the hour in which she feels the most inspired. Her favorite sunrise-watching spot is far away from any possible distractions so it feels as if there is nothing in the world except for the lapping waves and the words and rhythms forming in her mind as she takes a seat on a rock overlooking the ocean below her. 

Annie is just about to open her notebook to a fresh page so she can begin crafting her newest song when she sees something out of the corner of her eye. She turns to her right and spots a camera rooted in the sand.

It’s a shade of gray and adorned with a metallic blue strap that rests loosely beside it. Annie tilts her head curiously before looking around to see if she can spot its owner, but there’s not a living creature in a twenty-foot radius apart from herself and a seagull flying above her. So she closes her notebook, puts it back in her bag, and picks up the camera. 

Its display screen is still illuminated so whoever it belongs to must have dropped it just minutes before she arrived. She intends to immediately rise from her seat and begin searching for this mysterious photographer when the photo on the screen catches her eye. It’s a gorgeous shot of the ocean with the sun peeking out from the horizon and a dolphin jumping from the depths of the waves. 

“Wow,” Annie murmurs to herself as she admires it. She looks up again and finds that she and the seagull aren’t actually alone. She must have managed to miss the potential photographer in her search because he’s walking down the array of rocks and toward the sand. His back is to her so she can’t make out much of his appearance apart from the fact that his hair is blonde and his shirt is almost the same shade as the camera strap. 

Annie quickly stands and gathers her belongings with the camera in hand so that she can reach the man before he gets much further. She maintains her balance as she travels down the rocky path before trying to catch his attention, “Hey, you!” she shouts once she figures he’s within earshot. The man turns around, not seeing her at first, so an expression of confusion takes over his face. Once he meets her eyes, Annie holds up the camera and adds, “Is this yours?!” 

His confusion turns to recognition almost immediately as he jogs in her direction. As he fills in the distance between them, Annie’s able to get a better look at him. It turns out that his hair is more golden than it is blonde and his eyes are a shade of green unlike anything she’s ever seen before. He’s taller than she initially thought and his shirt is barely buttoned. She’s fairly certain that he’s the most beautiful man she’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Yeah, it is. Thank you so much,” he says with a relieved sigh. “I can’t believe I forgot it.”

Annie clears her throat and hands him the camera. “No problem.” 

He shoots her a smile in return and places the strap over his neck. “I guess I lucked out that someone else was in this area. I’ve never seen anyone visit this spot before.”

Annie returns his grin and says, “That’s funny because I thought I had this spot all to myself at this hour.”

“Ah, that would make sense then. I’m here an hour and a half earlier than I usually am,” he replies.

“Well, there you go,” Annie says with a slight nod. “I’m probably starting my shift at the cafe by the time you step foot on these rocks.”

Another flicker of recognition spreads across his face. “Is that cafe called Carpinteria’s Coastal Cafe by any chance?”

All of the self-defense TikToks that Annie’s seen on her for you page start appearing in her mind, reminding her that she shouldn’t tell a random man she’s never met before her place of work, especially when they are the only two people currently on this beach. But something in his kind eyes and easygoing smile makes her feel like he’s not a psychopath who’s going to kidnap her at any given second.

Still, she’s not going to just idly let herself end up on a Netflix true crime documentary. “And why would I tell you that, random-man-who-I’ve-never-seen-before?” she answers while crossing her arms over her chest. 

The recognition on his face immediately flares into embarrassment, a shade of red appearing on his cheeks. “Right. Sorry. I’m now realizing how that sounded so you definitely do not have to answer that. It’s just that my best friend, Johanna Mason is an assistant manager over there so I was curious if you knew her.” He holds up his camera before adding, “Thank you for finding this. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Oh, she certainly does know Johanna Mason. She should just let him leave because she knows for a fact that his best friend does not like her one bit and has surely said some rather crude remarks about her skill level as a cashier. 

But as he’s turning away, she can’t help herself. She doesn’t know what it is about him that’s making her not want their conversation to end. So, Annie stops him by saying, “Don’t you want to know the name of your camera’s rescuer?”

He turns back around and smiles softly in her direction. “I’d be honored.”

“Annie,” she says while holding out her hand for him to shake.

“Finnick,” he answers. “So you’re the cashier who wrecked the ice machine a few months ago?”

Annie bows her head in embarrassment. “She hates me, doesn’t she?”

Finnick laughs. “Jo hates most people, don’t take it personally. I’ve known her for ten years and have just barely managed to remain on her good side.”

“Okay, well, in my defense, that incident happened my very first week and I have learned my lesson since then,” Annie adds.

“No more ice machine casualties?”

“My record is clean,” she answers. “Apart from the one.”

Finnick grins and she can’t help but grin right back. 

“The picture you took is stunning by the way. I love the composition,” she says while pointing to his camera. 

“Oh, thank you,” he replies. 

“Are you a professional photographer?” 

“I wish,” he scoffs. “It’s just something I enjoy doing in my free time. Which lately, only seems to be this early in the morning, unfortunately.” Annie chuckles as he continues, “I’m a college student.”

“Oh, cool,” she says with a nod. “What’s your major?”

“Marine biology.”

“Nice.”

“What about you?”

“No college for me,” Annie replies. “I’m more of the starving artist type.”

“Let me guess,” Finnick answers. “A poet?” Annie shakes her head. “A painter?” Another shake. “An actress?” Another. “A singer?”

“And songwriter,” she adds.

“Very cool,” he says with an easy smile. “Would I have heard any of your stuff?”

“No, I just sing at local venues around town whenever there’s an opening. Just waiting for my chance to make it big, I guess,” she answers.  

“Well, I’m certain you’re extremely talented, Annie,” he compliments. “I bet your chance is right around the corner.”

Annie smiles again as Finnick’s phone starts to ring.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and scoffs. “Speak of the devil. Literally.” When he holds it up, a picture of Johanna flipping the camera off illuminates the screen. “Hey, Jo,” he says once he answers it. 

Annie puts her hands in her back pockets and nudges a loose rock with her shoe. She is not eavesdropping. She’s only picking up pieces of Johanna’s garbled phrases and Finnick’s replies and attempting to piece them together.

“Yeah, I’m free,” he says. There’s a pause and then either hat or cat is said. “You want me to watch Fluffy for an entire weekend?” Cat, she decides. Another pause and then a strained laugh. “I think you need to remember that that devil spawn ripped apart my favorite sweater the last time I watched him. Also, I think I need to remind you that one, your roommate hates me as much as that cat does and two, my landlord doesn’t allow pets.” Several moments pass and then Finnick sighs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“Fluffy?” Annie questions as Finnick’s phone is returned to his pocket. 

“Yep. But don’t assume he’s a cat who’s actually fluffy and also adorable. This one is hairless and cruel,” he answers. 

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Jo has a weird sense of humor. And an odd soft spot for cats. Especially old ones who were left on the side of the road five years ago.”

“Hm. I never would’ve gotten that impression from her,” Annie replies with a tilt of her head. 

“Well, unfortunately I owe her one and despite my nonexistent bond with Fluffy and having a pet in my apartment being against the rules, I will be watching him this weekend apparently,” he explains. 

“Bummer. Gotta admit though, I’m partial to cats so I think I’m on Fluffy’s side for this one,” she answers.

Finnick laughs. “Damn, I was hoping my ridiculously amazing first impression would’ve swayed you.”

“Nope, I gotta go with this rumored ‘hairless and cruel’ feline, sorry,” Annie says with a chuckle. 

This time, Finnick is the one smiling when a phone interrupts them. 

A text message chimes and Annie checks her home screen. “Well speak of the devil, yet again. Johanna wants me to come in early.”

“You’re kidding,” he says through a scoff.

“Guess she’s decided to unknowingly take out her devilish shenanigans on us both today,” Annie replies as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, well, she actually wanted me to meet her at the cafe to pick up Fluffy because her roommate supposedly– and I quote– ‘cannot be left alone for one goddamn second with him or else something horribly catastrophic is bound to happen’,” Finnick explains.

“I’m very intrigued to see if he’s as awful as you and her roommate are making him out to be,” Annie remarks. 

“Oh, he is. I promise you.”

Annie grins and gestures outwards. “Shall we then?”

Finnick appears to be slightly taken aback for only a moment before a flirty expression washes over his face as he winks and says, “So my ridiculously amazing first impression did work after all?”

Annie rolls her eyes and starts making her way toward the sidewalk as he follows. She attempts to fight back a smile the entire walk toward the cafe.

[enobariasdistrict2]

THE WAVES OF THE SEA HELP ME GET BACK TO ME by enobariasdistrict2/enobarias on ao3 | odesta | 2k

There is also another creature of the sea Annie notices - one very clearly human but still seeming magnificently unreal. The golden boy sitting on the dock without a shirt wearing black cords wrapped around the tanned column of his throat, like some kind of Peter Pan character designed for... adult entertainment, so to speak - stares curiously at her from his relaxed position. He doesn't even shy away from her when she makes eye contact, or indicate embarrassment at having been caught. But he does watch her attentively, with no hint of mockery or apparent desire to make fun of her for her obviously intense focus. She knows this is what it feels like when a stranger is intrigued by you.

or: modern au in which annie is a marine biology graduate student and finnick is a part-time model who helps his grandmother and her wife run a fishing shop

[allisluv]

BLOOD RUNS THICKER THAN WATER— a odesta fanfic

pairing: annie cresta x finnick o'dair

trigger warnings: everything that comes with the hunger games, the capitol not understanding mental illnesses, self-harm (will not be graphic at all), forced prostitution. please note i will update this list as we go on!!

a/n: it’s been a long time coming yall but i finally have motivation to start this fic! thank you for all your support and i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it! you can find this fic on wattpad (allisonslover1) or ao3 (allisonslover). reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

next chapter

chapter one — the reaping

Annie shifts onto her side as the morning sun begins to creep in through the gaps in her worn curtains. She kicks her linen duvet off her legs and stretches out in the sweat-soaked sheets in an attempt to cool down. You would think she was well-equipped to handle the heat in District Four after living there for the last eighteen years, but apparently not. 

It doesn't take long for Annie to hear a pair of footsteps padding down the hall. Her door creaks on its hinges and she looks over her shoulder, extending her arms as Marina crawls into bed beside her. 

Annie smooths her little sister's hair off her forehead and says, "Do you want to talk about it?" Marina shakes her head and nuzzles her face into her blue stuffed animal, a whale called Martha. "You shouldn't be nervous. You're too young to be reaped," Annie reminds her gently. 

"It doesn't stop me worrying about you, though," Marina admits quietly. 

Annie lets a sigh push past her lips. "It's my last year. The chances of me being reaped are zero to none. Besides, I can take care of myself. Don't get yourself worked up over nothing," she chastises. There's no venom behind her tone – there never is with Annie. "Come on, let's get dressed. We ought to be leaving as soon as possible." 

Annie unwinds Marina's arms from around her neck and sends her into her own room to pick out an outfit. She stands to her feet, sifting through the contents of her wardrobe, before settling on a floral pattern dress. It used to be her mother's, and it swims on her, but she likes it too much to care. 

She pulls her night-gown over her head and steps into the dress, yanking the straps over her shoulders and reaching back to tie the mint-green bow. Running a brush through her flaming red hair, she clips it back, securing it with a few bobby pins that dig into her scalp. 

Marina returns to her older sister's bedroom, dressed in a baby blue jumpsuit that is two sizes too small. Her light brown hair bounces down her back with every movement and Annie can't help but envy the fact that her sister inherited their mother's genetics.

Marina is small and light, with high cheekbones that even out her face and dazzling blue eyes that could easily stop traffic. Annie, on the other hand, follows their father– from her fiery red hair and sharp eyebrows to the fact that she can never mask a single thing she feels. Her brother, River, is somewhere in the middle. He's level-headed like their father but frets about everything like their mother. 

Annie hoists Marina up onto her hip and ignores the way her long hair tickles the back of her neck. She ventures down the stairs, almost slipping in her black socks, and pulls a pair of white sneakers over her feet when she reaches the bottom.

Marina wriggles in her sister's iron grip and Annie sets her down on the floor, letting her run into the kitchen where she can hear the familiar clink of River's keys hitting the marble countertop. Marina giggles in delight and Annie can only assume that he has picked her up and spun her in his arms. 

She hovers in the doorway, reluctant to ruin the moment, but her feet carry her inside on their own accord. Her sneakers squeak against the shiny tile floors and River looks up. 

His dark hair falls in his eyes and he keeps throwing his head back in an effort to make it fall back in place. "You ready to go?" he gives Marina a playful tap on the nose and she giggles.

Annie smiles and ties a white knitted cardigan around her waist. It hardly ever rains in District Four, but she likes to be prepared (another trait she inherited from her father). River places Marina on the floor and Annie grabs hold of her hand as they step outside. 

"When will I start training for the games, Annie?" Marina asks as they walk towards the town square. "I want to volunteer, just like Finnick did." The steadiness in her voice makes her older sister's heart work overtime. 

Annie tries to hold her tongue but the words slip out of her mouth before she has a chance to stop it. "I don't know why people volunteer to be sent to their deaths." Her face burns scarlet when she realises what she should not dare say aloud. 

River's mouth hangs open and he tosses a paranoid glance over his shoulder. "Don't talk nonsense, Annie. If Zale Morrissey hadn't beaten me to it, I would've been proud to represent District Four. It’s a privilege. Besides, all of our training has to go somewhere. Why not channel it into something more productive?"

"Like killing other children?" 

River is caught by surprise – it's not often that his sister stands up to him. He regains control of his facial expressions and smooths out invisible creases in his crisp ironed suit. "We're Careers, Ann. You'd do well to remember that from time to time. You don't want to volunteer, that's fine by me. I won’t hold it against you, I just think you're wasting your potential, that's all I’m saying."

Their conversation trails off as they near the Justice Building. Camera crews are positioned on the outskirts of the town square and anxious parents wait behind a red rope as their daughters and sons sign in. 

Annie gives Marina’s hand a reassuring squeeze and presses a chaste kiss to her brother’s cheek before weaving her way through the crowds to the roped off area in front of the stage. The other eighteen-year-old tributes file in and she soon finds herself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the girls from District Four. 

It doesn’t take long for the mayor to take the podium. He reads a set of cue cards about the dark days and motions for Elodie, a Capitol issued escort, to take the stage. 

She’s relatively young to be an escort, Annie thinks. Her jet black hair is pulled back in a French twist and her full lips turn up into a smile. She spreads her arms out like an eagle and her plum-coloured jumper creases down the middle. “Welcome! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour. As always, ladies first!” 

Elodie crosses over to the glass bowl and reaches inside. Her fingers fumble for a minute before she pulls out a crumpled slip of paper and trots back to the podium in her pink stilettos. Elodie smooths out the slip and loudly clears her throat into the microphone. “Annie Cresta!” 

Some girls surrounding Annie nudge her forwards with their sharp, bony elbows and she very nearly loses her footing. Her hands fly out and she grabs hold of someone’s shoulder, holding tightly as her heart starts to hammer in her chest. 

Her mother’s voice rings in her head, reminding her that first impressions will stick. It doesn’t sound like anyone is volunteering, so whether she likes it or not, she needs to pull herself together. She pushes her way through the crowd with her head held high, even though her legs feel like jello and her heart might give out on her. 

She’s moving on autopilot as she steps onto the stage. It feels surreal, in a way, like she’s been yanked out of her body and is being forced to watch her life on a television screen. 

Elodie squeezes her shoulder in what’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture but all it does is leave hard fingerprint marks indented in her soft skin. “Now for the boys.” She feels around in the glass bowl and holds a singular piece of paper between her index finger and her thumb. “Your male tribute is… Morgan Brooks!” 

In the crowd, Annie spots a tiny little thing being jostled towards the stage. His skin is pale and his baby blue eyes are wide as he stumbles up the stairs leading to the stage. He trips on the last step and falls flat on his face. There’s a murmur from the Peacekeepers but none of them move an inch.

Annie doesn’t know what possesses her to help him, but she hooks her hands under his armpits and hauls him up onto his feet. She can feel his bones poking out through his t-shirt and it makes her wonder when the last time he ate was.  

Elodie laughs awkwardly as Annie makes her way to the other side of the stage. Morgan’s face has flushed bright red as he tries to smooth out his clothes. 

Elodie runs a hand through her mane of black hair. “Let's give a hand to this year’s tributes!” she announces, voice all faux and high-pitched. “Something tells me it’s going to be an… eventful year for District Four!”

[this-hattan-newsie]

🐟Odesta fanfiction idea🐟

So one day Finnick(marine biologist student) and his younger sister went to the aquarium to look at the fish and then the sister is like "Finn, look, a mermaid!" He is about to say that mermaids do not exist but then he turns around he he does not believe his eyes. One of the most beatiful girls he has ever seen with the green eyes and dark hair was swimming with the fish in a mermaid tail. He could not ask for her number so he just looks at her (maybe take a selfie). Then he gets the job of feeding the penguins as his practice and he gladly accepts it as he has more time to look at Annie now. He wonders how she is capable of holding the breath that long. Sometimes he visits her during his work breaks and tell some stories. One time he writes on paper something like "if mermaids drink coffee?" And it gives the start of their relations.

[jugheadthelesbian]

odesta fans where r u?? i need my girls

[ivanajpeg]

ODESTA WEEK (DAY 1 MODERN AU)

Where Annie is a fashion design student and Finnick helps her with homework.

Note 1: this is gonna be very short cause I forgot to do it yesterday, but still I want to do the whole week. tonight I will post the one that's actually meant for today.

Note 2: english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes, please forgive me.

I hope you enjoy i even thought its quite short.

Annie was a very hardworking student and Finnick knew this. Opposite from the general public opinion, design degrees are very complicated degrees at certain level.

Annie was a fashion design student and she would often ask Finnick (and sometimes Johanna) for help in some projects.

They were either models for her projects, or would help her with other things like getting materials for her or even helping her cook when she had a lot of work.

It was her finals week and she had to turn in a project for her draw course for that semester. She was currently drawing Finnick for this project, she has drawn Finnick so many times that she thought it would be easy for her. She was so wrong for this.

“Can I move now?” Finnick asked, she had been “still” for a lot of hours in his opinion. In reality he was there for just 15 minutes.

“No. Stop moving for the love of god” Annie said, slightly frustrated. not at Finnick though, her frustration came from stress as she couldn't manage to finish a project that was supposed to be easy.

“You know… i think you need to relax”

“I don't need to relax; I need to finish”

Finnick stood up from where he was and walked towards her 

“Finnick, what are you doing you have to-”

“shhh…” he placed his finger on her mouth “Ann, you need to rest. Your project is due till next week, i think you can rest for at least 1 hour”

“Finn-”

“Nope, end of discussion. you're resting” he took her from her shoulders and made her sit on the couch “now, you lay down and rest. I will make something special to you”

Annie didn't protest, she knew it was useless. she just laid down and closed her eyes for a moment. she didn't realize how tired she actually was until she fell asleep almost instantly.

Finnick watched her from the kitchen with a small soft smile that was replaced with a concerned expression. He knew how Annie worked to have good grades but he also knew that at certain points that wasn't healthy.

While Annie slept, Finnick prepared her favorite food for her. He made sure to make it perfectly. He saw her again sleeping on the couch, he had a great idea. He sneaked out of their apartment to go buy her favorite flowers and her favorite candy.

When he came back she was still asleep. He waited for a couple of minutes for her to wake up. When she woke up he approached her.

“How do you feel now?”

“Better, I think I really needed that” she admitted, a bit ashamed.

“I have a surprise for you” she took her hands and guided her to the kitchen.

She was mesmerized when she saw what Finnick made for her.

“Finn… I-” she said “you didn't had to…” she smiled at him “thank you” she hugged him “thank you so much”

“You don't have to thank me, Ann… you deserve this and more” she hugged her back and kissed the top of her head “You're the most hardworking, smart, talented and beautiful girl in this universe, I swear I would give you anything"

They sat on the table and enjoyed their meal. Annie was happy and Finnick as well. They laughed, talked and shared sweet moments. 

(1 week later)

Annie managed to submit her project in time and the grade was just as she wanted to be.

"See, I told you you were getting a good grade" Finnick said "You're extremely talented, everyone with eyes can see that" She kissed her forehead.

"Thank you for believign in me... that really means a lot" Annie said from the bottom of her heart, she really loved Finnick and she was so grateful he was supporting her in this journey of life "I love you so much, Finn" she hugged him.

"And I love you more, Annie..." he hugged her back "more than words could ever express"

[ovtsakaramel]

Rainstorm

Annie hates tea. She normally hates warm drinks because they make her get lost in the fog in her own mind even more. Except coffee, the bitterness making her focus on the taste instead of the temperature. But since she met Finnick Odair she made her first cup of tea by her choice. She took it in her hands, the the warmth of the mug burning the skin of her hands. Like everytime she touches his tan skin. Bringing it to her lips feels like the soft kisses they share everytime they see each other. She takes a sip. The hot liquid leaves fire in her mouth and burns her tongue. The exact feeling when Finnicks tongue goes through her lips and gets her dizzy from the warmth. His kisses leave her numb the way the tea leaves the burnt tongue. She doesn't care. As long as she has him in her, she would take all the numbness and pain in the world. She could take just a little more, she was already crying herself to sleep every night, no matter if she was in his arms or wrapped in the cold air. She goes on the porch, the rain falling down and freezing the air. The cup feels even hotter. She sits on a chair and doesn't care that her posture is the one of a shrimp. She could see the sea from here, bringing enough comfort that she can put the mug on the little table. She lights a cigarette and takes a smoke. Finnick would kill her if he saw her, she promised him she'd stop. But she couldn't when he was away. The only thing that was even close to his touch was the cup and the tea inside it. She took a sip, her arm trembling because it was too heavy to carry with one hand. She fears she'd drop it and that it will shatter in pieces, just like her after the games. The warm liquid of everything positive spilling and soaking into the wooden porch floor. The cold air hit her. She loved everytime it rained not only because the sky was prettier, also because the rain and could air on her skin reminded her of the water. How it saved her in the games, how it saves her now. She looks into the sea and it reminds her of his eyes, exactly the same color. They're green with light blue on top and navy ends, like the sun hitting the ocean and how it looks darker on the horizont. They also have a little yellow that makes them look even ggreener She has always compared him to an angel, so it wasn't a surprise that her favorite parts of his body had halos on them. And the white makes them look like they have waves in them, like seafoam. She doesn't even remember if she's getting lost in his eyes and he's next to her, warming her up, or if she's drowning in the sea and the only piece of warmth is the cup of tea. It's not like she cares. The feeling is too good. For once, she doesn't think.

Finnick Odair has never been a fan of coffee, he didn't like the taste, no matter how much cream and sugar he put in it. But today he couldn't take it anymore. Being without Annie. He missed her face, he missed her voice, he missed her touch, he missed her. He went to the kitchen at his brothers house and got a packet of coffee. He threw it on the countertop and started boiling water. All he could think about is how desperate he was to feel her, to be with her again. They were never close enough, if they could they would melt and mesh with each other into one liquid and still not be close enough. When the water was done he turned off the stove and got a turquoise mug. The same color as her eyes. He opened the coffee packet with his teeth and some of it sprayed out onto the countertop and his face and sweater. He poured the rest into the mug and then the boiling water. He started smelling the scent of coffee and his mind immediately went to Annie and her permanent coffee scent. Whenever he got close to her she smelled like coffee, when they slept together her sweaty skin smelled like coffee, when she had just gotten out of the shower somehow she still smelled like funking coffee. Maybe that's why he didn't need it normally, there was enough caffeine in her natural smell. He got a little spoon and started mixing to coffee with the water. The liquid got exactly the color of Annies light brown skin and he couldn't wait till it cools a little till he tried it. His tongue set on fire. It tasted sweeter than usual. The moment the tastr hit him harder he felt weakened and sat down on the porch. It was raining, Annie would love it. He knows that every morning at 5 am, after writing all night, Annie went to the porch to smoke and drink coffee. Normally she brought him with her because the sound of the waves alone was too quiet to handle. But when it rained she could spend hours with the cup between her hands, not wearing any jacket because she loved the feel of the cold air against her skin. He never knew why, but now he felt the comfort of the cold air on him and how it felt like the cool sea and her icy hands. The bittersweet taste of the coffee made him remember Annies, the only difference that her lips were always cold, unlike the mug. But that's what the rain was for. He never knew that he would drink coffee, and especially not a whole mug in seconds. He could still feel the taste of it on his tongue, just how he couldn't take away Annies after they kissed. But it burned, which was something that Annie didn't give but take away. She did leave something but it was never. She was never painful, not like the Capitol who left only burnt all over his skin that he wished he could just peel it off and jump into the salt water to feel pain different than the one he's used to get from them. He looks into that same sea and could only see Annie's eyes. The sea matched her eyes only when it was dark and gloomy, but it brought him a type of comfort no one would get from darkness. The sea matched her eyes only when it was tempestuous, because in her eyes it was never, ever calm. The strikes of light blue that she had inside them were like the seafoam from the waves crashing into everything they saw, even each other. He wishes he could drown in them, the way he can in Annie's eyes. But it wasn't deep enough for him to drown. Her eyes were the only thing with that depth, depth that he couldn't even find her mind that he knew he'd never fully understand. The taste from the coffee started dehydrating him. For the first time he didn't wish for water, even think his mouth was dry and hot. He has already been through so much pain, why won't he take some thirstyness for the essence of his lover?

[rosaaeles]

literally no one asked, but here's The Returning Song from the Ficnick to music! i wrote it as a song and it's meant to be heard as that, but i couldn't exactly put an mp3 file in the middle of the fic so this will do!

[mollywog]

Ficback Friday

(and another installment of: Incomplete fics recs)

Part 1 | Part 2

Stories of Us by Ameiko

I love a historical AU and this one is a particular favorite. It’s set after WWI in PA (my personal District 12 HC location.) It’s Everlark-centric, but one of my favorite parts is the way the author weaves in other canon characters so that they’re more than just familiar names - every character is teeming with backstory. I’d love to know what was planned for the rest of the story, but what is posted is wonderful and leaves Katniss and Peeta on solid ground.

Bonus! There’s also the first chapter of a companion Odesta piece Coming up Roses - Annie is a Titanic survivor - to me it feels like just the right translation from canon to this AU.

[dancingonmoonbeams]

to dust or to gold

Annie Cresta has been training in District Four's competitive Hunger Games Academy since she was twelve years old. It's an honor to be part of the Academy and learn from all of Four's victors, including the annoyingly well-liked Finnick Odair. In her final year of eligibility, Annie will have to push herself if she wants to be chosen to bring glory to her district.

“Can I ask you something?” Finnick’s voice startles her from her reverie and she turns to find him staring right at her with those piercing green eyes. Annie suddenly doesn’t trust her voice to speak, so she simply nods. “Why did you join the Academy?”She doesn’t really have to think about it. “It’s an honor,” Annie replies, repeating the words she’s been told her entire life. “To represent the district. To bring pride to everyone.”His gaze grows even more intense and she feels heat rise in her cheeks as she forces herself not to look away. “And you believe that?”His cynical tone comes as a surprise. “Don’t you?” she asks, mystified.

Read on AO3

[odestasocean]

odesta week day three: free space

this is a new chapter of one of my fics posted on ao3! there’s some references to the other two chapters so if you want to read that first, you can do so here. but you’ll still be able to get the general idea if you choose not to. anyway, enjoy <3

He knows that he should be scared right now.

He just volunteered to be a tribute in the 65th Hunger Games, after all.

He knows that he should be scared because of the whispers he heard as he made his way to the stage— “The youngest Odair boy? Isn’t he only 13?” No, he’s 14, and 14 is a very fearless age to be. He knows that he should be scared because of the tears he saw form in Calder’s eyes— his big brother never cries. Except for the year that Finnick turned five. He knows that he should be scared because of the half-yelp, half-shout sound that came from his father’s mouth the moment Finnick raised his hand— doesn’t his father understand that he’s doing this for him and Calder? They’ve barely been able to afford acquiring this month’s supply of fishhooks. Victors are promised an endless supply of wealth for themselves and their families for the rest of their lives. He will remind his father of this once they join him in the Justice Building.

Finnick knows all of this, but he isn’t scared.

The Peacekeeper standing in the room with him might think so because of the way he can’t stop his leg from shaking, but that’s only because he thinks that his father and his brother are going to be scared and he hates worrying them.

He looks up as he hears their voices sound from outside the closed door.

Finnick isn’t scared when he notices the tears rolling down his father’s cheeks as he enters the room with Calder right behind him.

“Finn,” his dad says. He doesn’t say anything else until he marches up to him and pulls him into a tight embrace. “Why are you doing this?”

“I can win, Dad,” Finnick insists as he draws back. He puts his hands on his dad’s shoulders since he’s almost as tall as him now. “I’m at the top of my class at the Career Academy. I’ve passed every test with flying colors. I know I can win. And Victors are promised a lifetime of wealth. You won’t have to worry anymore.”

An expression passes over his dad’s face that Finnick’s never seen before. It’s somewhere between guilt, remorse, and a breaking heart.

“Oh, son,” he whispers. “You have to win. But not because of the money. Because I need my son to come back home to me.”

He doesn’t really know how to reply to this (because of course he’s coming back) so he settles for a nod.

Calder approaches him next and hugs him just as tightly as their dad did. “You’re such an idiot,” he says, but it’s not in his usual teasing manner. Instead, it sounds strained and sorrowful.

“An idiot who’s going to win these Games,” Finnick answers once he pulls away.

“I hope so,” Calder replies quietly. The way he won’t let go of Finnick’s arm makes him start to think that maybe this was all a bad idea because while he might be fearless, his dad and brother have never looked so petrified.

“I’ll be home sooner than you think,” Finnick says with a grin, attempting to uplift the mood. He hates, hates, hates how their eyes look like they’re trying to memorize every inch of his face.

His dad pulls him and Calder into another hug in response.

Finnick doesn’t draw back until he hears a familiar shout of his name coming from the hallway.

“Finnick!” Annie yells as she comes barreling into the room. Her eyes are wide and her hair is awry which causes an image of their first meeting from seven years ago to form in Finnick’s mind.

Except curiosity doesn’t heighten her expression. This time it’s terror.

She runs up to him and nearly knocks him over as her arms go around him with her face pressed against his chest. “You can’t go,” she says. “You can’t.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to win, Annie,” he reassures. Why do the three people he cares most about in this world seem so fearful all of a sudden? Annie’s always shared his fearlessness. She’s never been scared, just like him. Except for those few months after his eleventh birthday that they don’t talk about. An immense wave of gratitude overtakes him that he was able to have his best friend back after Annie had convinced her mom to let them see each other again (he still doesn’t know how she managed to do that). He’s realizing now how hard it would’ve been to leave this room without feeling Annie’s arms around him. He doesn’t think he could’ve done it.

“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers and with the crack in her voice, Finnick knows she’s crying.

He slowly releases her grip on his shirt for her because he also knows that she won’t let go otherwise.

“Annie,” he murmurs while wiping her tears free from her skin. She closes her eyes and another escapes. “I’m going to come home. I promise.”

“You have to,” she replies. “Okay? You don’t have a choice.”

“I will,” he insists.

“I…” she sniffs and reaches into her pocket before pulling out a bracelet made out of rope that’s dyed green with a blue conch shell tied to its middle. “I made this for you. I was going to give it to you after the Reaping, but…”

Finnick gently takes it from her hands and slips it onto his wrist. “I’ll wear it as my token. Thank you, it’s beautiful,” he says quietly but sincerely.

Annie nods before embracing him again as her cries are muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

Then, all too quickly, the Peacekeepers are dragging his family and his best friend out of the room.

Annie’s shouts of protest are the last thing he hears before the door shuts behind them and he’s left with nothing but silence. He’s starting to think that maybe he should’ve been scared all along. Maybe it’s fear that drives tributes to win.

i’ve been super busy so far this week so i haven’t been able to read everyone’s else’s fics yet but i should have time tonight!!!

[enobariasdistrict2]

odesta week modern au monday:

i will inform you right now that i am in high school with no previous background experience or interest in marine biology and anything that comes off as scientific information is dubious and came from quick google searches. i also have little knowledge of the UC school system so if this is inaccurate then sucks to suck lol.

There was no topic Annie could get lost in as far and as easily as she did other than marine biology. Thankfully, living in a prime area to study the ocean and attending a program to pursue this passion at a renowned school, the University of California at San Diego, afforded her many opportunities to study marine life.

She observes different creatures with unfeigned fascination, those both widely known and even some obscure to common society. It surprised her how so many Californians were uninformed of the natural beauty of the sea and the wealth of information it provided readily as well as the secrets that were hidden with the frothy waves. How her fellow citizens weren't interested in learning about the many different versatile species all contributing to marine biodiversity and ensuring the health of the planet. Moreover, she was often frustrated by how many cynics reduced what made her life feel purposeful as a waste of tuition money and argued she wouldn't be making a particularly large sum of income through this path. And it enraged her that people in her family sometimes believed marine biology students simply went on fun little field trips to the beach and made sandcastles and pointed at starfish like they were a novelty. Which, they were, every organism on Earth down to the worms digging through the soil had inherent worth, but it frustrated Annie that people who were supposedly her support network trivialised her passion in such an insulting way.

The golden boy sitting on the dock without a shirt wearing black cords wrapped around the tanned column of his throat, like some kind of Peter Pan character designed for... adult entertainment, so to speak - he stares curiously at her from his seated position. Doesn't even shy away from her when she makes eye contact, or indicate embarrassment at having been caught. But he watches attentively, with no hint of mockery or apparent desire to make fun of her. She knows this is what if feels like when a stranger is intrigued by you.

It feels incredible, but Annie doesn't indulge the feeling as she would like to, instead continuing to document her observations of the coast without paying the boy - man, really - any heed. Even as she feels his watchful gaze prickling against the back of her neck, searing through the skin of her nape like California summer heat.

Annie dutifully ignores him. Traces the drawings of one of her favorite salmon species and then closes her notebook with a sense of finality, done for the day. Gives her severely antagonistic college roommate turned minor-attachment friend, Enobaria, the catch-up call she'd been meaning to all month. Updates her grocery list. All mundane tasks designed to eat away time and still the man has not ceased his staring at her. She might have called him rude but that isn't what makes her uncomfortable with this interaction.

Since his staring is open and unencumbered by societal expectations of politeness, she feels free to look back. An unfortunate mistake. Annie is unable to tear her eyes away. A glowing expanse of sunlit chest that tapered off into knotted pants, golden curls that were incandescent in the daylight, and piercing diamond-cut blue eyes. Then she fixates on the jawline that reminds her of seaglass, a sharp unfairly smooth jut of cheekbones.

But California was full of handsome men. San Diego certainly had plenty more than any woman attracted to men knew what to do with. What captivates her isn't the surfer-boy charm of a stereotypical Californian character in a movie or the pretty face. It's that he stares out at the ocean with a kind of haunted look and glazed over eyes that she understands, having probably had the same expression on her own face more times than she could count.

She steels herself before she can lose her nerve, accepting mental encouragement from the Johanna Mason in her head, another surly and easily irritated woman she'd known from college and against reasonable judgement befriended, and continued to stay in touch with despite the other woman having returned to her Oregon hometown. Johanna's advice is more or less an angry uttering of "Well, what now Cresta, are you going to stare like a pussy bitch or go get that gorgeous piece of ass?"

Annie doesn't simply walk over. She sways with the sea breeze, feeling lighter and buoyant because of it. Watches as he perks up with renewed interest realizing that she is about to approach him. She herself stands at attention, feeling bold and positively hopeful for this interaction.

"You stared at me. For like an hour," she points out, voice ringing out across the beach. Sand gathers in soft clumps between her toes as she stares down at him with arms crossed, brown waves billowing across her face. The man cranes his neck to get a better look at her, evidently amused.

"So I did," he replies blithely. His voice is much more pleasant than she could have imagined, like a waterfall cascading across smooth pebbles that slide against each other as they move.

"Are you a stalker," she inquires bluntly. It's an odd question - surely a stalker with violent intentions wouldn't blatantly admit it - but he takes it in stride.

"No," he says dryly. "What were you drawing in that notebook?" His eyes bore into hers, inquisitive, pressing.

"My work. I'm doing field research," she informs him helpfully.

"Well, you should be careful. We've got sea monsters and terribly frightening beasts too," he warns her humorously. He doesn't wink at her, but mischief glitters in his eyes all the same like the sun's light against cresting waves.

"And do you have a name, monster hunter?"

He laughs warmly. "Oh, I'm no monster slayer, darling. If one were to show up behind you I'd run and leave you to your fate. My name is Finnick."

A light zap of recognition stirs within her. Those eyes, the charming smile and voice, the familiarity of the shirtlessness...

"You're in those commercials," she realizes out loud. He nods in confirmation.

"Yeah, I get a lot of good modeling gigs for different shit. Body spray. Ocean perfume. Beach vacations. Even to be on the cover of some raunchy pirate romance novel. But since I'm on a brief hiatus right now," he jerks a thumb to the area behind him, and Annie follows the movement to a shack-like structure with a sign reading Odair Fishing Equipment. "I'm helping my Grandma Mags and her wife Coral with the shop."

"That's lovely," she says sincerely.

Finnick's already impish grin widens. "Well, if it's lovely, then come inside, Miss Field Researcher. And tell me where exactly you go to."

Annie accepts the invitation for some reason - mainly curiosity and the desire to follow a good smile. Besides, she has her pepper spray in her pocket if things go south, paired with some self defense moves that Enobaria and her protégé - a small runt of a girl named Clove, back then recently graduated from high school, whose personality was at the intersection of Enobaria's lethal calm and Johanna's brash outspoken attitude - had taught her when she'd stayed in Enobaria's cabin near the Rocky Mountains for spring break during senior year of college.

"I went to Panem Community College - it's a little over the state border - before transferring to UC San Diego for my last two years," she tells him breezily, content to share. Normally, she would refrain from providing such an extent of information to a stranger, but Finnick's openness encourages her to be that way on her own and she's honestly more than happy to. "Then I got into grad school. Marine biology is my dream subject to learn about, and I always wanted to explore the ocean for as long as I could remember."

He nods along with her story as they walk, clearly invested. That has never happened on any of the dates - not that this is one - she went on, where men drown her out in favor of devouring her her petite frame and glancing at her lips, or some were polite enough to listen but couldn't manage to be as enraptured by her speaking the way Finnick was. The intensity of his stare almost made her blush.

"That's actually really amazing. I was never as passionate about learning, but it's always really cool to meet someone that is. I myself make a living mostly off modeling gigs - gotta put my looks to use," he jokes with a lighthearted laugh. Somehow, this self-compliment about being attractive doesn't come off as arrogant as anyone else would have sounded. "But Grandma Mags has had this store for decades now, and it's my childhood sanctuary. I wanted to do my part to keep it going."

Annie hums her agreement. She can understand wanting to stay near family. After... after what happened, with the devastating consequences it had had on her mental health, the reason she'd survived was because she had stayed in close proximity to her parents and the remaining sister. It was why Panem Community College had been the best fit for her, even though she'd gotten into some of her dream schools. Even now, though it would take only a forty minute drive to return to her family, hug her mother, kiss her father on the cheek, embrace her sister who still couldn't bear to look at her but loved her all the same, the pang of loneliness still affected her deeply.

They enter the shop, bell ringing with the door's opening and marking their arrival. A sharp-looking older woman with russet hair that had greyed over time and narrowed eyes sits at the counter, already seething with contempt.

"Coral," Finnick greets her coolly. Far less dreamily and soft-spoken than when he'd told her of his Mags.

"Boy," Miss Coral rasps. She meets Annie's eyes emotionlessly before returning to a worn ledger with yellowing pages, probably keeping documentation of decades of finance records.

Finnick gently pulls her into a corner space far away from the counter. "I'm guessing she's not a sweet little old lady like Miss Mags?" Annie ventures teasingly, now strangely comfortable with this boy.

His eyes roll upwards to the ceiling, almost as if praying for patience. Annie tries not to find it adorable. "Coral isn't the nicest woman anyone has ever met. She's seen a lot of shit that would melt my brain, I get that, but we have an understanding that she's a part of my life because my grandmother loves her."

"Mm," she hums, noncommittal. Right now Annie is battling the temptation to sweep away a tantalizing golden lock that falls onto his forehead. Plus, they are remarkably close together for people who have just met.

"But anyhow, you've seen my humble abode. Now tell me about your marine biology." She's startled to see no inflections of sarcasm, no sense of him obliging her for the sake of politeness. He... he only wants her to talk. About something that interests her.

Really, it's the bare minimum for any man, but her heart pounds anyways.

So she begins to tell him about the unique behavioral patterns of a species she's researching, how many organisms are capable of forming remarkable emotional connections with one another and how this varies across the board. The chemical basis behind the smell of dead fish. The resurgence of endangered dolphin populations as the Covid pandemic put a brief, forced stop to overfishing.

And he listens attentively. No interruptions, just him holding her gaze with a heated intensity that alludes to activities - but he makes no move to kiss her or touch her.

Annie finds herself wanting that, but this is... this is nice too.

Coral passes by them, shuffling in that way old folk tend to, with a grunt in Annie's direction. Annie bites her lip to keep from giggling as she looks to Finnick for explanation.

"Yeah, Coral likes you. Other guests I bring by... not so much."

Her heart stupidly drops just a centimeter in her chest - not sinking, she has no claim to a man she just met who is obviously desirable - with the mention of guests. Annie hides this quickly enough.

"Well, if you want to make yourself useful other than staring at me like a creep," she grins at him cheekily when reminding him of how they'd met a half hour ago, "you could be my research assistant. Help me collect data, and... other, um, duties. Of a research assistant."

Annie bites her lip as she waits for a response. A weird mix of hope and attraction entwined in her chest.

"I'd be happy to, water nymph." Annie snickers at the new endearment - that was certainly more original, she thinks, than "babe" or "sugar" or "sweetheart." Not that Finnick had any reason to call her these things, obviously.

"I always wanted to befriend a water nymph," he confesses softly, with only traces of humor that makes her believe Finnick might be being wholeheartedly serious. His eyes hold hers for far too long to be appropriate for acquaintances. Neither break the spell.

"I'm gathering samples tomorrow with some colleagues. You're more than welcome to join," she invites him. It implies that Annie will leave, but she has really no desire to, so she just... keeps standing still there, with this nice and funny and really hot guy. Next to a display of fishing rods. A totally reasonable plan.

"I'll be there the minute you need me," he accepts her invitation smoothly.

Annie has dedicated her life to the study of ocean life and is living her dream. But suddenly she wonders if this boy might be an essential additive element to that dream.